The Red Forest
by bertiebert
Summary: Ivan didn't know it would happen; Nikita didn't even know it would happen. At 1:23 A.M. on April 26, 1986, Nikita thought his entire country was being wiped off the map. Little did he know that what happened would resonate forever. Male!Ukraine


_**Okay. Another Male!Ukraine/Canada fanfiction with some brotherly Russia thrown in for good measure. It's based around the nuclear meltdown at the power plant in Chernobyl, Ukraine. I'm unsure if this would cause anyone to become upset, so I'm warning you now. There are no graphic details, just the way I assumed it would effect Ukraine's body.**_

_**The title is relevant to the background. The Red Forest, formerly known as the Worm Wood Forest, refers to the trees in the 10 km² surrounding the Chernobyl power plant within the Exclusion Zone. The name 'Red Forest' comes from the ginger-brown colour of the pine trees after they died following the absorption of high levels of radiation from the meltdown. The site of the Red Forest remains one of the most contaminated areas in the world today.**_

_**Review and enjoy!**_

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When it happened, Ivan was with his brother. Nikita didn't act any different until it was nearing early morning hours. He was grimacing slightly, but Ivan put it down to the drinks of vodka Nikita had ingested earlier. The grimace deepened and Nikita touched his stomach before whatever it was took him to his knees. Ivan watched, horrified for a moment, before springing to action. His brother was retching, his meager dinner forcing itself back up, and shaking uncontrollably. By the time Ivan came back with a damp washcloth and the bathroom's wastebasket, Nikita was listless and struggling to hold his weight up.

Gathering Nikita onto his lap, Ivan wiped his brother's mouth with the cloth and folded it over to press against flushed cheeks. Nikita clutched at Ivan's coat, occasionally vomiting again into the trashcan that Ivan held for him. Nikita just panted weakly as he slipped in and out of consciousness, skin ashen and damp. The Russian didn't know what to do. Something must have happened in his brother's land to make him ill.

Struggling to his feet, Ivan settled Nikita in the hotel bed and watched him nervously for a moment. When it seemed his brother was fully asleep, although it was a fitful sleep, Ivan slunk away to clean the carpet as best he could. The room's phone rang shrilly, startling Nikita, and Ivan dove for it. He sat on the bed beside Nikita, wordlessly holding the trashcan near his brother and answering the phone.

"_Da?_"

"Ivan, something has gone wrong. Where is Nikita?" His boss said, in a tone low and urgent.

"He's with me. What has happened?" Ivan answered automatically, reaching for the damp cloth to stroke across his brother's ghostly face.

"Reactor number four in Chernobyl has exploded. Radiation has been spread throughout the surround areas, and," there was a pause; Ivan held his breath, "it's very bad."

"Keep me informed. I will care for Nikita," Ivan said, brain running on autopilot as Nikita moaned and curled in on himself. "_Do_ _svidaniya_."

He hung up, not waiting for a reply, and pushed Nikita's pale hair away from his face. The affection came naturally as he saw how his brother just writhed, shook, and let out huge puffs of breath as if in pain. His brother had done so much for him as a child it was only fair he began to repay him.

"Shhh, _ya tut_, you will be alright," Ivan hushed, prying Nikita's fingers from the sheets and letting his brother clutch at his own hand. "I will not leave you, Nikita. _Ya obitsyayu vam._"

It was nearing six in the morning before Nikita was calming. He would occasionally retch but there was nothing else for his stomach to expel. Soft whimpers and breathy pants made Ivan's heart constrict. Sure his brother could be a crybaby, but that didn't mean Ivan enjoyed seeing Nikita in pain and not be able to do a damn thing about it. Humans had done this to his older brother, his former caretaker. Just the thought of those men running the reactor made Ivan's blood boil, but he was quickly brought back to reality when he felt Nikita shift on the bed. He waited for Nikita to say something, cracked lips attempting to form words, but all that came out was a long whine before he gagged once more. Ivan just stroked the broad back, wiping the cool cloth across his brother's forehead. He cooed and purred in both Ukrainian and Russian, anything to keep Nikita calm.

"_Tysha_, do not fight it. Just let it come," he soothed, pushing silky hair away from Nikita's face.

When Ivan was able to get Nikita to sleep, he crept away from the bed to sit in the small den. He was dozing off, the clock inching toward nine o'clock, when there was a knock on the door. Listening for a moment, he could hear Nikita's quiet snuffles and pained groans. Whoever was behind the door knocked again, more incessantly, and Ivan rushed to answer.

The violet eyes that peered up at him, wide and terrified, made Ivan's annoyance diminish.

"Is Nikita here with you? Is he alright?" Matthew asked, trembling nervously.

"He is here, and he is sleeping now," Ivan offered, not wanting the Canadian to disturb his brother.

"Can I see him? I want to make sure he's alright."

Ivan was just about to growl at Matthew to leave his brother in peace when a feeble voice spoke up from the bedroom doorway.

"Matvey?"

Matthew grinned and pushed past Ivan. Nikita shied away from a hug, but Matthew just reached up to brush his knuckles against Nikita's flushed cheek.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Matthew asked, holding Nikita's larger hand in his.

Dull blue eyes regarded Matthew unfocusedly before a smile ghosted across Nikita's face. "Better. Ivan has been with me all morning."

"That's good. I'm glad someone was taking care of you. I hated to think you were all alone," Matthew fretted, covering Nikita's cold hand with his. "Sit down, you look tired."

Nikita allowed Matthew to lead him to the couch and collapsed heavily. Ivan drew closer, asking his brother if he needed anything. The Ukrainian requested some tea and, as always, nodded towards Matthew. Understanding the weak sentiment, Ivan grudgingly asked Matthew the same question.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Matthew answered, glancing at Ivan before lightly squeezing Nikita's hand. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared into the bedroom, and Ivan tensed.

"Be calm, Ivan. He's just worried," Nikita breathed, whimpering suddenly and curling an arm around his midsection.

"Shhh, don't stress yourself," Ivan said, voice low and sweet.

Nikita just rested his head on the back of the couch and let Ivan stroke his hair away from his face. Ivan waited until Matthew came back, wastebasket and a damp cloth in his hand, before leaving his brother's side. They silently worked together to care for Nikita, who let them dote on him and accepted their affections. It made his pain lessen to have someone smiling at him and there to croon until the nausea and sharp pinpricks ebbed away. When Nikita dozed off once more, the occasional breathy whimper or cry leaking from his lips, Matthew let him rest his head in his lap. One of the feather pillows from the bed cushioned the Ukrainian's head while the softest blanket they could find in the entire hotel was draped over his bulky frame. Ivan regarded Matthew as the Canadian stroked Nikita's hair and clucked at him when he would wake himself moaning. He saw a man enamored with his brother and felt his hackles rise until Matthew held Nikita steady as he vomited again.

When Nikita curled up against Matthew, panting and whining pitifully, Ivan didn't have the heart to break them apart. He hadn't seen Nikita so relaxed in decades and he would give up everything in the world to see him like that more often. If it meant letting Nikita be with Matthew, then Ivan would learn to love the democratic nation and put his hatred aside for as long as Nikita wanted the Canadian. It would be difficult, but as long as Nikita was happy, Ivan was glad to give up his rejection of Matthew's government.

It was several days before Nikita was well enough to travel home. The rest of the world knew about the explosion and every nation called to check on the Ukrainian. Matthew and Ivan stayed with Nikita, screening the phone calls and protecting the weak nation from overstimulation. On a particularly rough afternoon, some of the 'liquidators' having passed away from radiation, Nikita could not be consoled. The pain of radiation affecting both his citizens and his land and losing some of his people left him sobbing exhaustedly in his bed. Matthew paced the house, dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and hands shaking uncontrollably. Ivan just watched him, listening for Nikita in case his distress became too great. When the Ukrainian's sobs lessened and he could peel himself out of the bed, he shuffled out of the room and towards Matthew.

"I'm sorry," he breathed around trembling lips.

"No, no, it's not your fault. I understand," Matthew hushed, wiping tears off Nikita's cheeks and allowing the larger man to use him to steady himself. "It's alright, baby, it's alright."

Ivan didn't mention the term of endearment, and neither did Nikita. Matthew didn't seem to notice having said it and just fussed over Nikita until the older man was dozing on the couch. Exhausted and running only on strong Russian tea, Matthew sank down onto the floor in front of the sofa. He barely moved after that and just stared at the television with glassy violet eyes. When Nikita shifted in his sleep, gasping softly and arching his back, Matthew swiveled around to soothe the Ukrainian.

"Hush, _chéri_, I'm right here. You're alright," Matthew cooed, cupping his hand around Nikita's flushed cheek.

"Matt," Nikita choked out, holding onto Matthew tightly.

"It's okay, sweetheart, everything's alright. I've got you, I'm here," Matthew chanted, whispered words brushing Nikita's cheek.

When Matthew looked at Nikita, those stormy blue eyes pleading and hurt, Ivan could see exactly how the Canadian felt about his brother. Once Nikita was nodding off again, Ivan drew Matthew into the kitchen.

"Sit with me, Matthew," Ivan prodded, preparing more tea and setting a plate of prepackaged Russian tea cakes on the table.

The uneasy gaze Matthew gave him led Ivan to relax a little. It would be easier to soothe Matthew's worry when he wasn't tense. He sat across from Matthew, allowing the tea to steep.

"How do you feel about my brother, Matthew?" The question was anything but subtle, but Ivan deigned his brother's love life important to know.

After a moment of hesitation, Matthew sat up a little straighter and looked Ivan in the eye. "I care greatly for him. Why is it of any importance to you?"

"I look out for Nikita, Matthew. Since he has come to live with me, I have protected him for any danger that presented itself. When I was a child, he did the same for me. It is only fair that I repay him the years of guidance and protection he gave me. I need to know that he will not be hurt because of someone's desire to play with his heart." Ivan eyes were steely and set Matthew's nerves on edge despite knowing he'd done nothing wrong.

"If you're asking me if I have romantic feelings for your brother—in an extremely roundabout way—then the answer is yes. I do. I've had them for a very long time, but because of the little standoff between you and Alfred, I haven't been able to act on them," Matthew replied icily.

"Just how do these feelings…manifest themselves?" Ivan practically snarled, his arms crossing over his wide chest.

Matthew, seemingly so small and vulnerable and feminine in the kitchen chair, tensed and his lip curled up in distaste. Despite the hatred rolling off the younger man, Ivan could just see Nikita enveloping Matthew in his arms, holding the Canadian close and kissing him. When he saw this, Nikita's smile and happy blush, Ivan didn't feel so angry towards Matthew. He knew how close Matthew and Nikita were and couldn't make the words come out when Matthew urged him to elaborate.

"Never mind," he said quickly. "I apologize. That was…uncalled for."

Matthew had the decency to look taken aback, but just shrank back a little. "A-Alright. Why are you so upset about my feelings for Nikita?"

"I don't want to see him hurt, but I know that I should allow him the freedom to make his own choices. If he wants you as his lover, then I will not deny you two the chance to be together." Ivan smiled tightly and poured Matthew and him a cup of tea each.

"I can assure you that I don't plan on hurting Nikita at all. He means a lot to me, and my brother can attest to hearing me blather on about him incessantly. I would treat him with the utmost respect and give him anything he wanted. Of course, there would be times that we would fight, but that doesn't mean I don't love him anymore. Understand that Nikita is one of the few things that make me happy in this world. This century has been hell for all of us, and I would really like to strengthen relations with a nation rather than sever them." Matthew was almost pleading with Ivan, violet eyes big and honest.

"Matthew," came a breathy, shocked voice from the doorway.

The man in question turned in his chair and all color drained from his face.

"Nikita, I-I'm so sorry. This isn't how—"

Ivan made to leave when Nikita yanked Matthew into his arms, the Ukrainian's lips covering Matthew's and big hands cupping the Canadian's narrow hips. He figured that it would be a little while before the two would be able to hold a conversation without needing to swap spit with one another and decided a bath sounded nice. As he made his way up the stairs, he caught a softly murmured declaration from Nikita.

"I love you, too."

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On the twenty-fifth anniversary of the meltdown in Chernobyl, Matthew went with Nikita to a memorial. He sat in the small audience as Nikita spoke and was at his side when he placed a wreath on each of the graves of the men that had been the first to respond to the disaster. The evening was tense and somber until Matthew slipped and fell in some mud just outside of Nikita's home. Laughing uncontrollably, Nikita attempted to help Matthew up but was pulled into the puddle as well. They were thoroughly covered in mud by the time they could climb up, but the mood was lighter and Nikita was smiling. Matthew wouldn't say later if his fall had been on purpose because that would be telling.

Their shower took substantially longer than if normal, but that could have been from all of the mud. Or for the fact that Nikita had Matthew's back pressed to the slick tile wall and made love to him until he was quivering and whining uncontrollably. The Ukrainian could feel the scar on his throat pulse as he listened to Matthew's unrestrained wails, but felt that it was healing instead of hurting. Matthew did that to him. He made everything better.

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**Translations:**

___Do_ _svidaniya - _Goodbye (Russian)___  
______Ya tut - _I'm here (Russian/Ukrainian)_____  
__Ya obitsyayu vam -_ I promise you (Ukrainian)_______  
__Tysha - _Hush (Ukrainian)_________  
__Chéri - _Darling (French)**___  
_**

_**NOTE: I purposefully had Ivan speak Ukrainian to Nikita because he assumed it would help calm his brother down to hear his native language. He also figured that Nikita wouldn't be feeling well enough to speak/understand English. So there's a little look inside Ivan's head in that moment.**_

_**NOTE #2: The scar on Nikita's throat is a little key to the meltdown, as is the fact that he vomits quite a bit. When the "liquidators" were working to clean up the debris, they eventually collapsed from the radiation and began vomiting. That is the body's way of expelling anything it deems toxic. The scar is supposed to be located over Nikita's thyroid gland. After citizens and "liquidators" were exposed to the radiation, a lot of them developed thyroid cancer and had to go to specified thyroid treatment hospitals in Belarus and Russia to have surgery on their thyroid. Nikita didn't necessarily have his thyroid removed, you can decided whether or not he did, but the scar is the physical representation of the meltdown at Chernobyl.**_


End file.
